Thursday, August 18, 2005
Song, a poem written by JK Baxter
My love came through the city
And they did not know him
With his beard and his eyes and his gentle hands
For he was a working man
My love stood on the lakeshore
And spoke to the people there
And the fish in the water forgot to swim
And the birds were quiet in the air.
‘Truth’ – he said, and – ‘Love’ – he said,
But his purest word was – ‘Mercy’ –
And the fishermen left their boats and came
To share his poverty.
My love was taken before the judge
And they nailed him on a tree
With his strong face and his long brown hair
And the whiteness of his body.
‘Truth’ – he said, and – ‘Love’ – he said,
But his purest word was – ‘Mercy’ –
And the blood ran down and the sun grew dark
For the lack of his company.
My love was only a working man
And now he is God on high;
I have left my books and my bed and my house,
To follow him till I die.
‘Truth’ – he said, and – ‘Love’ – he said,
But his purest word was – ‘Mercy’ –
Flowers and candles I bring to him
And no man is kinder than he.
: From Collected Poems, edited by Weir, 1980.
and for more on Baxter, one of New Zealand’s finest contextual theologians.
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